Another Thing Entirely
by JennaGreenleaf
Summary: For a moment, Lady's heart had stopped. All she could do was stand there and think, her son was somewhere out there, her baby boy. Scamp may have been on an adventure, but his parents sure weren't. Sometimes you never know just what you have...until it's gone.


_"Tramp, come on. We'll look more in the morning."_

For a moment, Lady's heart had stopped. All she could do was stand there and think, _her son was somewhere out there, her baby boy._

It had taken a lot to bring her mate, Tramp, in for the night. Every instinct in her body was screaming at her that she should be out there, looking for their boy. She knew he felt the same way.

_Scamp._ Who knew what could have happened to him out there on those streets? She knew how treacherous they could be. Had Tramp not stepped in, that night when she had ran away from Aunt Sarah, there was no doubt in Lady's mind that she would have been killed. And now her young pup was out there, with no one looking for him. At least, not until morning.

Her boy had been a pawful, from the day he was born. He took after his Pop in that way. While his sisters had proven themselves to be prideful, if slightly vain, Scamp had pride without vanity, but instead discontent.

He was so much like his father. Lady took up a vigil at one of the front windows. She was tired—bone weary, in fact. But she would not sleep tonight. She put her head down on her paws and watched the street.

Movement off to one side caught her eye. She was not unsurprised to see that it was Tramp. He had been a light sleeper, a restless sleeper, for as long as she had known him. She could see that the fact that their son was gone was scarring him just as much as it was scarring her. She had spent a night on the streets, once. Tramp had grown up there, and had had to fight his way to the top. He had the scars to prove it, honour badges of fights won.

He had killed other dogs to stay alive, he had once confided in her. His options had consisted of kill or be killed, but what he had done still roused him sometimes in the night with nightmares.

She didn't want that life for their son, and neither did Tramp.

Lady tilted her head ever-so-slightly, just so much that Tramp was fully in her field of vision.

He was a sight to behold, as he had always been. He had been beautiful when she had first met him, a kind of rugged handsomeness. Now, he had lost none of the ruggedness, but his coat was smoother and shinier and she could no longer count his ribs.

He had begun to pace, and to pace with a slight limp.

"Tramp," she said softly, "Sit, before you damage that paw of yours any more than you already have." He sat heavily beside her, but he didn't look at her. Nevertheless, she knew her mate well, "Come on. We'll go to the yard."

The night Tramp had saved the Dear's baby, he had landed awkwardly on his paw. As it turned out, he had fractured a bone, but no one had realized it until the next day. The vet had fixed him up, but the leg still gave him trouble when he was upset or stressed. Lady was sure it was all in his head, but she said nothing about it. He was a strong, proud creature, her mate. He was allowed to have a few weaknesses.

Lady stood, but Tramp didn't move, "He's not going to just come marching down the street, Tramp. If he comes back tonight, he'll try to sneak in through the back."

Tramp cocked his head to her, but followed all the same. Scamp may have been his Father's son, but he was also Lady's boy.

Her first breath of the night air was like adrenalin shot right to her veins—but the feeling was gone as suddenly as it had come.

"Why hasn't he come home yet, Pigeon?" If the night hadn't have been so silent, she would not have heard Tramp's question.

"He's stubborn," she said softly, "But I have faith that we will find him, or he will come home on his own."

"I wish he'd never run. I wish he'd stayed. He doesn't belong on the streets. They're no place for a puppy, even one as bright as Scamp." For all that they talked, Tramp had never told her about his early days on the streets, about how he had come to be on the streets. It was clear that Tramp was going to divulge no further information, though. Lady had resigned herself to that fact long ago, back when she was pregnant with their pups.

"I can't get the thoughts out of my head, Pige. I hope, beyond all hope, that what happened to me doesn't happen to our son."

"What do you mean, Tramp?"

"Nothing, Pige. It's nothing."

"Obviously it's something, if it's making you this upset. You can't say things like that to me, especially about our son, and just expect me to accept it," Normally she would not push him so hard, but normally her son wasn't missing, "What happened to you out there? Why were you on the streets in the first place?"

His eyes hardened, "My Mother was a street dog. My Father was a house pet. My brother and sister and I were born on the streets."

"At least you had her, then. Someone to look out for you."

"No we didn't, Pige. Almost as soon as we were weaned, she died in a fight with another dog. She died protecting us."

"What was her name?" Lady whispered.

"Reinette, for she was a Queen among our kind. She grew up on the streets of Paris, and hitched a ride on a boat over to America when she was younger. My Father was on that boat with her. He was called Arthur, after the famous King. But he was nothing like King Arthur, my Mother said. He left before Mother even knew she was expecting."

"I'm sorry, Tramp." Lady said softly, "I was taken from my family, shortly after I was weaned. But it was expected, where I came from. No one ever kept their pups there. I had a home to come to, though. Where are your brother and sister now?"

"Marauder—Mura—and Bandit both went through the one-way door at the Pound. I don't know what happened to them, but chances are they're probably dead."

"And now that could happen to Scamp." Lady whispered.

"And now that could happen to Scamp," Tramp agreed softly.

"We will find him in the morning," Lady said with as much confidence in her voice as she could muster.

"But what could happen to him before then?"

"We cannot think that way, Tramp. We must be strong, for our family."

"Yes, we must," he agreed, "But can we not be allowed a moment of weakness?"

Lady was taken aback. She had never seen Tramp like this before—to ask to be allowed a moment of weakness was unheard of, coming from him, "Yes, I think we can have a moment of weakness."

"Thank you, Lady." Tramp barely ever called her by her real name. She had been Pige for as long as she had known him. He put his head down on his paws. She draped an ear over his head, just as she had done, sleeping beside him on that unforgettable night. Neither would sleep that night, but neither would be alone.

"Do you think he misses us?" Tramp asked after a few minutes.

"He does," Lady said with confidence, "It is one thing to dream of leaving home, and another thing entirely to do it."


End file.
